Unlikely careers
by DeenerLypp
Summary: It's been a long while since TDI and the cast has grown up and gone to seek their fortunes,but their choices are...surprising,to say the least.K for mild swearing.
1. Ezekiel

Introduction: What if long after TDI, the cast had made their way out into the world, not only choosing unlikely career choices, but excelling in them?

Disclaimer: I don't own TDI or any of its affiliations. This is my first fic, so constructive criticism is welcome.

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**Chapter 1 : Ezekiel.**

He wasn't sure how it came to be.

He, some home-schooled prairie boy, became one of the most critically acclaimed directors in the history of Canadian cinema.

Maybe it all started with that damned reality show, total drama something, he couldn't remember. Why would he? It was almost 10 years ago, and he was kicked off too early to feel any emotion other than initial disappointment.

Not that he minded all that much.

No, what interested him more were the film crew, how choreographed and precise it all was, despite it being a reality show. Everything had a place, no matter how natural it looked; he knew that every single detail was meticulously planned from the beginning to the end.

When he got home, he started going through his parent's home movies, taking notes on just about everything, from lighting to angles to sound.

He never cared much for movies before, but found himself watching old classic romance movies his mother was fond of.

Casablanca.

My Fair Lady.

The King and I.

He wasn't just getting a new hobby, he was getting a new lease on life!

Before, he was just going to take over the farm, get married and have fourteen (home schooled) children. But now, there was a whole world outside waiting to be captured through the eyes of a camera lens!

He researched, bought the books, joined forums and did everything he could to engross himself in the art.

One fateful morning, after doing his chores, he found out about a short film contest on the forums.

Nothing big, really, but to him, it was the biggest opportunity he'd get since signing up for TDI. Formulating plots in his head, he shut himself in his room for 36 hours straight, writing a script nonstop until his hand ached and he'd snapped about a dozen pencils in half from gripping them too hard. His parents were worried, they'd never seen their quiet homely Ezekiel this intense, but they let it slide, thinking that their boy simply wasn't capable of trouble.

That part was true, at least, but they hadn't anticipated he'd manage to make a movie behind their backs!

For all his social awkwardness, Ezekiel excelled in other things. He'd been able to foresee any hitches along the way and took utmost measures to avoid them. His budget for this movie was a whole year's allowance (which was quite a substantial amount. It wasn't as if he frequented malls or anything) and his leading actress was a girl-cousin of his who lived a few miles away. His location would be his very own backyard, amongst the golden fields and apple trees and his film equipment was an ancient bulky museum piece, last used at his seventh birthday, but at least it was in working condition. In fact, the only thing he had to go out of his way for was some new computer stuff so he'd be able to make any changes or add sound effects to his budding project.

No project goes off perfectly though. He managed to make his cousin cry a few times with his misogynistic comments while she delivered her lines with little to no emotion, but soon he learnt that sexist comments weren't particularly helpful when one was trying to get the point across, having remembered his painful experience at Camp Wawanakwa where he was nearly choked to death by a burly East European woman, something he'd like to forget. But soon, his cousin Millicent delivered her lines as well as any season actress and he wrapped up his first film, feeling for the first time in his life, truly accomplished.

He mailed his entry the next morning, having stayed up all night editing and was left waiting for a response.

Days turned into weeks and Ezekiel began to lose hope. He started to resign himself to his fate. After all, how could he, some farmer, still naïve about the outside world, hope to compare with other more experienced directors who'd been making movies since they were children, when all he'd been doing was sitting around waiting for opportunity?

That's where he was wrong.

He woke up one morning and decided to check his e-mail one last time, just to see if anyone at all cared about his movie. If nobody at all cared about a movie made by a simple young man who dreamed, then that young man would simply resign himself to his fate, and go back to the rural agricultural lifestyle he'd known all his life.

He stared at the screen, stunned at the single word that changed his life forever.

_**CONGRATULATIONS!**_

Not only did the judges like his movie, they declared it was the best entry they received, hands-down, and that he was to attend the prize-giving ceremony, to receive not only a sum of prize money, but a scholarship to any film school of his choice!

His parents were so proud, his father polished their truck until it shone and his mother pressed his church clothes so he'd look smart at his first big function. They clambered into the truck in their Sunday best, Cousin Millie wearing her mother's lipstick, his mother wearing jewelry that she saved only for Christmas while his father wore his fine grey hat and drove to the city.

They were barely acknowledged as soon as they stepped in the building. He'd hardly ever seen so many people under one roof, milling around here and there, everyone knowing someone here. Except for him, of course. Suddenly shy, he kept his head down and made a beeline for his seat, suddenly feeling more nervous than ever before.

The lights dimmed and people took their seats.

A young lady appeared on the screen, her fair hair blowing about her face, looking like a halo in the sunlight, the camera zoomed in on her delicate features, capturing every freckle sprinkled across her dainty nose.

She ran through the golden fields of barley, her dialogue soft, yet meaningful, her face expressing every emotion flawlessly, as if she had been there on stage herself, pouring her heart out to an awestruck audience, silenced by the raw talent of the director and the young ingénue.

By the end of the movie, where she blew a kiss to the camera, there was not a dry eye in the room. The credits gave way to thunderous applause, standing ovations as Ezekiel ran onstage and was awarded his prize.

That was 8 years, 6 months and 29 days ago.

Not that he'd been counting, of course.

He graduated as one of the best of his class and was taken under the wing of Vere Gorbinski, acclaimed director of the "Buccaneers!" franchise to be assistant director of his next epic, a wildly exaggerated comedic drama about a group of teenagers stuck on a deserted island with a sadistic host of a reality show putting them through grueling challenges.

It was a hit, obviously.

That marked the beginning of his career. His first of choice leading ladies was obviously his cousin for his first few movies, the same girl who starred in his very first movie, before she was offered other roles and soon moved to Los Angeles to embark on a singing career, becoming a Hollywood sweetheart, hounded by paparazzi, all dying for an interview with the former farm girl who made it big, living the dream of many out there.

By comparison, he mostly stayed out of the spotlight, preferring to be behind the cameras instead of in front of them, making hit after hit each time.

Now with four Oscar nominations and one Emmy award under his belt, maybe that reality show from his younger days really did help after all.

After all, he'd gotten more than just some Vitamin D in his diet, he'd gotten inspiration.

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**Review please? :D**


	2. Eva

Author's note : I apologize for making Eva seem really out of character here, but maybe there's more to her other than a big angry Amazonian, after all, she's still a girl. Maybe under all that aggressiveness is a young lady who aspires for more than just weights but doesn't know it yet.

**Chapter 2: Eva**

Of all the career choices she considered, supermodel wasn't anywhere near the top of her list.

In fact, it never WAS on the list.

So how did she, champion body builder, all six feet and three inches of pure muscle wind up sashaying down the runway for one of the biggest designers in the industry?

Maybe it happened after she nearly beat the snot out of the designer.

After getting kicked off Total Drama Island for the second time, her parents (both former weightlifters themselves) agreed that Eva should spend the rest of her summer visiting relatives in Eastern Europe, far away from Muskoka (and more importantly, far enough to prevent Chris from getting mauled to death by their angry daughter) and she found herself among her tiny relatives, who were thrilled to have their cousin finally visit them after so long.

How she found herself standing outside her aunt's dress shop handing out flyers though, was completely beyond her.

She wouldn't have noticed the giant limo coasting by until it pulled up right in front of her, the window opening just a crack. Forcing a smile onto her face, she silently went over what her aunt had told her to say, cursing the fact she hadn't bothered to practice her Russian before the trip.

A squat bespectacled man, wearing combat boots with what appeared to be a tartan suit leapt out the car window and started jabbering excitedly to a nearby assistant while poking her in the side before spinning her in a circle repeatedly.

Caught completely off-guard, it took her a full thirty seconds to come to her senses. She clenched her fist and pulled back, ready to knock this freak into the next fortnight before her aunt came running out just in time, trying to see what all the commotion was about only to screech in surprise and narrowly stop her niece from pounding the living daylights out of Carl von Schikleheisendaurberg, professionally known "Das Carl",

An eccentric yet renowned fashion designer, notorious for his daring designs and even more daring runway shows, his most recent involving unicycles, a gorilla in a tutu and a fish.

"Mein Gott! Diese kräftige Frau!"

The little man darted around Eva so fast, he would have easily dodged her had she actually decided to hit him, which fortunately for both of them, didn't happen as it was highly likely that it would escalate into international incident. This thought never actually crossed their minds, due to Carl's assistant attempting to negotiate with Eva's aunt for her headshots while her aunt Nadya insisting that they make a purchase before even contemplating a deal.

Needless to say, Eva's parents were even more surprised than she was, her father even laughing out loud when she phoned them with the news.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAgaspHAHAHAHAHA Oh wow. Wow. And here I never thought you had a sense of humour!"

"I wasn't joking, Dad."

"…what?"

"I'm seriously thinking about it. I mean, I've always been the scary girl, the one that's always been tougher than the boys. This is the first time I've actually felt…feminine. I feel good about this, and not the I-just-managed-to-beat-my-bench-press-record, but that weird feeling that girls get when they feel…I dunno, pretty or some crap! This whole girly business is still kinda new to me and stuff…"

She heard her dad sigh deeply, his accent becoming thicker the more emotional he got.

"Oh, darling, Eva, dumpling, you'll need to speak to your mother about this. I still need to think about all this…let me pass you to mama."

"Eva?"

"Hi mama."

"Did Das Carl really ask you to be in his show?"

"It's just one dress, he asked me to close his show, but I have to go for a fitting. He's got a studio here, and Aunt Nadya would be there every time."

"I don't know Eva…Since when were you interested in this sort of thing? I thought you didn't care about fashion and all that."

Eva winced and decided to use her last resort.

"Please mama? Pretty please?"

She cringed with every syllable, she never begged, but for some strange reason, this modeling thing seemed too good to pass up.

"…Ok, but auntie has to be there always, yes?"

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!"

As she hung up, Eva did the one thing she thought she'd never, ever, EVER do in her entire life.

She squealed for joy.

She spent four days awake at an unholy hour in the studio, standing still and resisting the urge to bite Carl's fingers off or to kick him in the nards every time he jabbed her with a needle. Four days of tucking, stitching, gluing, and pulling later, the dress was done. An austere sleeveless floor length black gown, buttoned up to the neck with several shining silver studs, trailing all the way to her waist before tapering off to the side. She gaped at the finished work, shocked at how stern the dress looked, yet still giving off an edgy vibe, she turned to the side, admiring how the racer back cut of the back of the dress was highlighted by her muscular shoulders before she suddenly started to freak out.

Could she really do this? Could she really walk in this dress in front of hundreds of people, who'd be judging her on her self admitted lack of good looks? This wasn't like her weightlifting competitions or her karate tournaments, she couldn't just zone out and focus solely on her competition, no, she had to walk gracefully, not her usual method of shoving people out of the way or storming through the hallways, glaring at all who dared to cross her. She offered to wax her monobrow for the show, but the idea was rejected by the designer.

"Nein! Dees look! Ees you! Ees yooneek! Every runway has tiny little toothpick with same face! Not me! Which deezinah has amazon in hees show? Who has wan-dah wo-mahn to model for him? You veel not change look! You veel not wax eyebrows! Show ees een de fall, you come back look the same, ok? If no, I veel not do the show!"

That settled everything. She bid a tearful goodbye to her relatives, got on a plane and flew back to Canada and everything went back to normal.

Well, not quite.

People began to notice subtle changes in Eva's demeanor. She didn't shove people out of the way in school, her footsteps no longer could be heard a mile a way, her fists weren't constantly clenched by her side, and people who dared to make eye contact with her made a startling discovery.

They began to whisper among themselves;

"Is Eva wearing lipgloss?!"

Fall rolled around and armed with a letter of excuse, Eva and her parents flew from Canada to New York, where she would wear couture in front of a critical audience, walking down a big white runway in sky high platforms for one of the famous designers in the business.

Carl however, was as cool as a breeze.

"Don't look at de audience. Walk down, walk up again. You are fabulous."

If it weren't for the half empty bottle of champagne in his hand, she might have felt a little better.

The minute she stepped onto the runway, the audience was silent for a full ten seconds. She'd made it halfway down the catwalk before people started to notice the dress. Murmurs of appreciation began to circulate amongst the audience as well as whispers of " who is she?" "I've never seen her before" "She's huge!" "That monobrow has got to go!"

She thought it was over when she got past the curtains, but Carl grabbed her hand and yanked her onto the runway one last time, waving and smiling to a cheering audience, receiving a few odd looks her way, but overall, she'd just walked her first show and never looked back.

She goes over her first show several times in her head every time she's booked for a gig. She'd started at sixteen and at twenty four, she's walked in countless shows, was the face of Carl Von S' designer fragrance, was the spokesmodel for Cophard watches and had a considerable networth, all the while juggling schoolwork and socializing.

She didn't need to be scary or aggressive to get her point across anymore, even though she was famed for her stony catwalk gaze and her signature monobrow, she made her mark on the industry as one of the most unsual but also one of the most coveted supermodels by designers everywhere. She also tried her hand at designing, and her debut collection of sportswear was set to be released next spring.

It was amazing she managed to muse on all of this and not fall off the runway.

She didn't really stick around for the afterparties, she mingled for about an hour or so before going home, but the last thing she was expecting to hear was the voice of a certain TV host call out her name.

"Eva! Oh my God! Eva?! You're a supermodel now!? Dude!"

The one and only Chris McLain. She remembered that toothy smile, but that was the only thing she recognized about him. In eight years, he'd gone from skater dude to corporate cool, his hair cut stylishly short and his cargo pants traded for an immaculate silk suit, and he gained some faint lines around his eyes, but his forehead however, managed to stay frozen the whole time he was talking.

She answered his questions with a cool professionalism until;

"If you're free this weekend, I've got a wicked villa in St. Tropez we could totally chill an-…"

"Chris, are you hitting on me?'

"Well…"

She laughed. Not the I-think-you're-cute-but-I'll-just-bait-you-before-I-say-no laugh, but a full on belly laugh, she laughed so hard she clutched her stomach wheezing, but broke out in another round of laughter at the incredulous look on his face. She walked off, still laughing to herself as she grabbed her coat and headed for the exit.

"Was that a yes?"

By then she'd already hailed a cab.

I apologize for Eva's OOC, but this was actually a lot of fun to write. Review if you liked this chapter. Noah's up next!


	3. Noah

Thank you guys for the reviews, they made me all warm and fuzzy inside! )

Flashbacks are italics for this chapter. I don't own TDI characters, except for Abe and Ruth, who are my own characters.

Chapter 3: Noah.

He never liked crowds for many reasons.

One, they were filthy, terrible on his allergies.

Two, they were noisy. Who'd be able to think with all that noise?

Three, his skinny frame could be crushed in a matter of nanoseconds by a mob of excited Neanderthals and most of all,

The smell.

Sweat, cigarettes, cheap perfume, hairspray, it made him sick. People in school would say Noah walked with his nose in the air.

You would too, if you could smell what he did.

It was only at the insistence of his older siblings that he'd let them take him clubbing on his eighteenth birthday.

"_No."_

"_Oh come on Noah, when are you finally going to unclench your butt cheeks long enough to contemplate having even just a little fun?"_

"_My butt cheeks are my own business, thank you very much, and why would I want to spend my birthday in a dark room with about a hundred and fifty other people, being breathed on and making bodily contact with a bunch of sweaty, hormonal Cro-Magnons?_

_Besides, I know how to have fun!"_

"_Oh yes, playing online games all day long! All that fun must be sooo overwhelming!"_

"_**What's going on?"**_

"_Noah doesn't want to go clubbing!"_

"_Abe, tell Ruth I don't want to go!"_

"_**Woaaah relax bro, all this arguing is totally killing the mood, man! Ruth, it's our little bro's birthday, we shouldn't be telling him what to do…"**_

_Noah smirked at his sister, knowing his older brother would take his side._

"_**It's not his fault he's wicked scared of crowds!"**_

"_I'm not scared of crowds!"_

"_You're right Abe! I mean, Noah's always been scared of crowds! Remember when he was seven, he got lost when Mom took him to the mall, and we got him from the info counter, and she was sooo mad, but he was crying his eyes out…"_

"_That was one time!"_

"_**And when he was twelve, he started freaking out when Aunt Gladys, Aunt Candy, Aunt Sarah and Aunt June started surrounded him at Christmas? He started spazzing so bad we had to drag him off the patio…"**_

"_FINE! I'll go clubbing with you guys!"_

" _I knew you'd see it our way eventually."_

" _I despise you both so much right now"_

"_**We love you too, man"**_

And against his better judgment, he walked through the velvet ropes without so much as a sarcastic comment. He started wishing under his breath that the bouncers would turn him away and he could go home. He'd make it convincing though. He would shrug his shoulders and plaster a downcast look on his face, insist that Abe and Ruth went on without him, take a cab home and play online games into the wee hours of the morning.

But apparently, his sister's funbags said a lot more than he could.

Inside the club was like hell. Hell with thumping RnB beats and drunken crumpers. He made his way to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic, he'd need the alcohol to make the night pass quicker.

"Hey darlin'. Anyone tell ya that's one fine ass you got there? How's about I buy ya a drink?"

He would have screamed when a hand landed on his backside if his mouth weren't full. Instead he choked, sending the burn of the liquor straight into his nostrils.

"I'M A GUY, YOU IDIOT!"

He made a face at the now very confused drunk and stormed off, who was lucky that the events that happened later that night took place or else he would have been faced with sexual harassment charges from an unknown source for months.

Two gin and tonics, a black Russian and some vodka shots later, Noah was feeling considerably looser than he did when he came in. If it weren't for the swimming colours and shimmering haze of slick shining bodies glistening with sweat, he would even go as far as to say he was having a good time.

And then came the DJ.

Almost at once, it seemed that the steadily dwindling crowd had swelled in numbers into a massive steadily pulsating horde, desperate for the upcoming euphoria their deity with the earphones was to bestow upon his loyal worshippers, his followers who had come to make their pilgrimage, all awaiting the tempo that would drive away all their troubles and make them forget that the world outside was cold and cruel. Tonight, they would stay inside their smoky, neon womb.

And like a deity rewarding his worshippers, he obliged.

Noah watched every move of the crowd, each of them moving to the rhythm, some swayed, some jerked awkward and some just bopped their heads in time with the beat. Every hand motion of the DJ across the turntables meant another treat for the crowd. They whooped, they ground themselves against each other, laughing and drinking in each other's presence, happy to share their temporary nirvana with faces they would not remember the next day.

It could have been the alcohol, but even he was pleasantly surprised to realize that he'd been admiring the control the DJ had over the crowd and not sneering in distaste to the orgy of germs and filth amongst the dancers. Even more surprisingly was when he leapt amongst the crowd, doing an impressive impersonation of a drunken bear, except he'd call it dancing and throwing all inhibitions out the window, he even did the robot.

Some laughed, a few jeered but the crowd mostly just danced along. He didn't know how long he was there, but his blissful madness was jerked to a halt when he felt a pair of strong arms grab him by the shoulders.

"**Come on, bro. It's almost two. Mom's freaked, we promised you home two hours ago."**

"Must I really leave?" Noah would have scowled at how dreamy and spacey his voice was, but tonight, the old cynical Noah stayed at home eating instant Mac and Cheese while flipping channels until he fell asleep on the couch.

Tonight's Noah had his head in the clouds and didn't care that his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, or that somebody's appletini had sloshed all over his right sleeve (his shirt was green, so it wouldn't show as much) or that he inexplicably wound up with a wadded up cocktail napkin in his pocket with a phone number and a message 'Call me up, Mr Roboto! – Sam.'

He fell asleep sprawled out on the back seat of his brother's car, dreaming of lights, smoke and music.

The next morning's hangover was like a clogging competition in the middle of a death metal concert going on in his head. He got up, cursing enough to make a sailor run away with his hands clamped on his ears. And yet, the previous night replayed over and over in his head, clear as a bell. He cringed at the memories of his dancing came flooding back and yet, the smile on his face after was so wide, it took up most of the space on his giant head.

He chased that feeling again and again, but it wasn't the same unless a live DJ played, but every time one did, that same maddening bliss came rushing through his bloodstream.

That feeling caused him to have The Epiphany.

He had brilliant ideas before, being a self-proclaimed genius, but this was the only time he had an idea magnificient enough to warrant uppercase letters.

His parents freaked out over the fact he traded his bassoon for a set of turntables.

"_WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS ON BASSOON LESSONS! FIRST BENCH ON THE SCHOOL ORCHESTRA! SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS ON THAT INSTRUMENT ALONE,AND YOU TRADE ALL THAT FOR THOSE...THOSE NOISE MACHINES!?"_

"_Your father and I are very upset with you! How could you do this to us?! You couldn't even think of discussing this with us?!"_

_They turned to face Ruth._

"_This is all your fault! You were always the bad influence! Dropping out of school so you could paint for a living? Living with those druggies and not going to college! You're even worse than Abe! At least HE managed to get into community college!"_

_His father was too busy draining his scotch to scream at her._

"_Mom! Don't blame Ruth, it was all my idea. I wanted to go clubbing. I dragged Ruth and Abe with me so I could get in."_

_The glass fell and shattered across the floor. His father rang the buzzer and Nita the housekeeper rushed in with a broom and a dustpan. His father paid no attention to her and berated his youngest son._

"_You?! You don't even like going outside! What the hell were you thinking?"_

_His father was lowering his tone. After Noah had been certified a child genius, he had always been his father's favourite. And so, after several minutes of smooth talking and assurances that he would still get into Harvard, the matter was dropped. Ruth mouthed her thanks, and no one thought much of the matter ever again._

Like all beginners, he was terrible. The trance inducing music he yearned to create was met with screeches and choppy uneven beats, accentuated by unpleasant stereo feedback. But unlike beginners, he was a gifted learner (often pointed out by himself, of course) and picked up the skill within a year, and had even volunteered to play at high school dances, which he would have previously abhorred, but as long he got to play his music, he was happy.

And he made good on the Harvard promise, but even he couldn't cope with lectures, coursework, assignments while still practicing his music. And so, choosing career stability over everything else, he packed up his turntables and they were shoved into the back of his closet for a very, very long time.

Time passed, he'd gotten a master's degree in Economics, and got a desk job doing accounts for some big company, getting paid well but yet, he had a void so deep within himself even his massive ego could not make up for. He went about his day to day business, waiting for something to happen.

One day, after scraping together enough money to get a great apartment in the city, he decided to move out of the tiny flat he'd been staying in since he moved out of his parent's place and lo and behold, like a sign from above, his turntables were lying on the ground, still in the closet, still waiting to be played. He gazed at them lovingly and brushed his hand over them. Before he knew it, four hours had passed and he'd been going at them non-stop, playing until his wrist began to throb but he ignored it, for the big black hole in his soul had been filled, just a little, but enough to bring light back into his being.

He decided to take it up again. No planning, no thinking, just one rash decision he'd look back on and be thankful for.

He took a chance one day and rushed to the newest nightclub in town right after work, asking if they were hiring a full-time DJ. He didn't even bother to change. He stood there in his suit and tie, perspiring from the judgmental owners, who looked barely older than he was. Finally, the one with the black lipstick and bleached blonde hair said;

"_Let's hear what you got."_

It was all a blur after that. The only thing he remembers is that very night, he's elevated above the crowd, delivering that same euphoria he felt all those years ago.

He knows he quit his job soon after that, and kept playing in clubs until he was asked to DJ for some fancy record company party. If you asked him whether he had any doubts or whether he though the offer was too good to be true, he'd look at you with a look that said "Me? Oh please."

He says its all been a blur since then.

"…and it's been about four years since that gig. They liked me enough to ask for a demo CD and eighteen months later, Swimming Shapes is released." He narrates to a reporter.

She's young, maybe only about twenty, and she was nervous about her first interview. Noah Barker was one of the most watched up-and-coming DJs on the charts, and he's lived up to his reputation of being utterly cocky yet charming. It was hard to act during the interview, with him giving her a coy smile, buying her a drink and yet managing to annoy her enough to want to throw her Cosmo (which he insisted he pay for) in his face. But she'd wipe that smile off his face, oh yes, she had one final trick up her sleeve.

"Do you remember that reality show you were on? How did you feel about kissing another man on air?"

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Wow. These are getting long! I'll try to make Justin's short! I hope this one doesn't disappoint!


	4. Justin

Chapter 4: Justin

Chapter 4: Justin.

Monday mornings in the clinic are never fun.

There were people hung over trying to get a doctor's note.

There were people who didn't want to waste the weekend at the hospital.

And then there was the pediatrics' ward.

Wailing babies, sniffling children and the cooing sound of worried mothers rocking said children.

For these people, it was a horrible way to start the morning.

That's when he walked in.

Was it the golden ray of light he was bathed in when he walked through the door?

Or the way birds sang when we walked pass the window?

It was impossible to not take him in completely, from his pearly white teeth to his sky-blue eyes, his perfectly manicured nails to his gold cuff-links, how well his shirt accentuated his toned perfect body, how stunning the clean white lab coat looked against his tanned skin.

Strolling in casually with a cup of coffee in one hand and briefcase in the other, he smiled at all the people in the waiting room.

The babies stopped crying and snuggled into their mothers' chests.

The moody children grinned big toothy smiles and played quietly with each other.

The elderly receptionist sighed and remembered the days of her youth.

"Good morning Alice, are my files in my office?"

"You'll find them all alphabetized and arranged on your desk, dear"

"Thank you, Can you send in my first patient in ten minutes?"

"Anything for you, sweetie."

"What would I do without you?"

Flashing another brilliant smile, he walked in his office to go over his patients' history.

A young mother shifted her baby to her hip and asked the receptionist;

"Who was that?"

Alice smiled and said;

"That's our resident pediatrician, Dr. Justin Suarez."


End file.
